2,412 Hours
by iluvtorun
Summary: Post Zugzwang. Spoiler Warning for Season 8 episodes through 8x16, Carbon Copy. Started as Morgan/Garcia fluff (and angst, major angst for Morgan) in the aftermath of Reid's loss. Follows the plot line of Season 8. Changing the rating to M, just to be safe. Don't own Criminal Minds.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Spoilers for Zugzwang (8x12). Includes a flashback of dialogue from the episode. Don't own Criminal Minds. Can't decide if it should just be a oneshot or maybe more? Poor, poor Reid. Its like they are REALLY trying to set him up for a psychotic break. How much can one genius handle? Couldn't resist writing this, really loved doing Morgan's POV, he's such a complex character. _

They had spent hours processing the scene. Hotch had finally taken Reid home-of everyone on the team, Hotch had probably understood better than anyone the pain Reid was feeling. Morgan rubbed his hand over his head, sighing, as they pulled into the FBI facility at Quantico. He really couldn't imagine the loss Reid had suffered . . . the loss Hotch had suffered.

They parked the SUV. J.J., Blake and Rossi headed immediately for their cars, quietly calling their goodbyes to one another. He knew J.J., especially was more than ready to be home with Will. Morgan glanced at Garcia's classic Caddy in its usual spot. Without a second thought, he headed toward their offices. There was only one person he really wanted to see right now. Apparently she hadn't gone home yet, even though she had surely been done with her work for quite some time.

As he stepped into the elevator, he thought of his conversation with Reid earlier in the day. Being Reid, the kid had calculated the number of hours he had spent communicating with Maeve. He had never even seen her face before, but he was in love with her. Reid calculated that he had spent 2,412 hours communicating with her. 100.5 days.

"_What if that's all I get?" _ _Reid had asked._

_"Well, it's not." Morgan had answered him with conviction._

_"You can't say that." Reid had said, with that same fearful look he had worn all day._

_"Yes, I can. Because when we find her alive, and you finally get to lay your eyes on her, what's the first thing you are going to say to her?"_

Except they hadn't found her alive. Or rather, they had, but they hadn't been able to keep her that way. Instead, Reid had watched as the UnSub had put a bullet through both of their brains. Just as her pathology had predicted she would. But they hadn't reacted fast enough-hadn't seen it coming. Reid hadn't gotten his chance to declare his love. He would never hold the women he had loved in his arms. 100.5 days. After 100.5 days, Reid was broken from his loss.

How much harder had it been for Hotch, after _years_ with Hayley in his life. They had been high school sweethearts. They had brought a child into the world together. Their marriage had not survived the BAU, but that didn't mean Hotch ever stopped loving her. Morgan simply couldn't imagine surviving that kind of loss.

He stepped off the elevator at the BAU's floor. The bullpen was dark and abandoned. He headed straight to Garcia's office-the need to see her growing more urgent every moment. Her office, however, was dark. Her babies were off, her chair pushed in at the desk. He headed to his office next, an irrational fear growing in his chest with each passing second. He breathed out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding as he found her curled up on the sofa in his office, sound asleep. It was, after all, almost three in the morning.

Her crazy high heels sat next to the couch, her bare feet curled under her. Her glasses sat on the small table next to the couch. Although her eyes were closed, the area around them was red and puffy. He knew she had probably spent most of the night crying. She looked utterly innocent and heartbreakingly beautiful. He sat gently on the floor next to her, reaching out a hand carefully to play with a blonde curl that fell across the arm of the sofa.

2,412 hours. After 2,412 hours, Reid knew that he had loved Maeve. He had been able to say it out loud, but he hadn't had the chance to tell her before she was taken from him. How many hours had he and Garcia spent talking over the past years? It had been almost a decade that they had known one another. He didn't have Reid's head for math, but he knew he had easily spent thousands upon thousands of hours talking to the woman before him. She knew him better than anyone else in the world. She knew his fears and his soul, and she loved him unconditionally. They told each other they loved each other regularly, but for whatever reason they both maintained that friendship was all there was between them.

Before he could dwell on that any longer, her beautiful brown eyes opened. She smiled at him, then frowned as her eyes pooled with unshed tears. She reached a hand up and cupped his cheek. "For one stupid moment I was going to ask you what had you looking all serious," she whispered. "Then I remembered." He closed his eyes and sighed, reveling in her touch. He reached up and covered the hand on his face with his own, then turned his face to kiss her palm. She started crying in earnest then. He slid up onto the couch and pulled her into his arms. He knew that her heart was breaking for Reid's, because that was the nature of her soul.

He felt terribly guilty as he held her. Reid couldn't hold the woman that he loved. He felt guilty because he had told the kid it would be okay, and it hadn't been. Despite all the darkness in his life-the black marks on his soul-he got to hold his baby girl, while Reid-who had faced far more than he should have had to in his years with the BAU, who was more or less an innocent-had to deal with the terrible loss of his love. He felt guilty because he felt a thousand times better holding his woman in his arms. He was reaching the point when what was best for her would cease to outweigh his feelings for her, and that made him feel more guilty than anything else. For now, though, he was content to comfort her, and be comforted.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: I was going to leave this as a one-shot. But my kids are both home sick and I am BORED SENSELESS. And need some serious Morgan/Garcia action with the bizarre episode schedule. So, here ya go. Not sure how long it'll last, but if it does it will loosely follow the season 8 episodes that follow Zugzwang. _

Morgan wasn't sure how long they stayed like that—comforting one another on the couch on his office. Eventually his baby girl had cried out all of her tears and became quiet. He thought perhaps she had fallen asleep, but when he looked down at her he saw that she was staring off into space, as if deep in thought.

"What's going on in that head of yours, beautiful?" he asked.

She sighed. "It just doesn't seem fair, does it?"

"No part of this is fair, baby," he said, "but what do you mean, specifically?"

"That we can hold each other, but Reid never got to hold her. That he had to see her die. Any of it. Not a single part of this is fair. He just deserves more, Derek. He's been so alone his whole life."

Morgan knew what she meant. He kissed her forehead. "I know, baby, I know."

They sat there for a few more minutes. "You ready to go?" he asked finally.

"Yes. No." She sighed again. "I don't want to be alone tonight, hot stuff."

He gave her a crooked smile. He was glad she had said it so he wouldn't have to. All things considered, he would sleep far better tonight with his blonde goddess in his arms. "Well I _suppose_ you can come home with me. If you must."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "How chivalrous of you," she said sarcastically. "I know it's a major sacrifice."

"Yeah, well, you win some," he grinned," and you lose some. Maybe I won't have to do any dishes while you are there." That earned him a whack from her. He pulled her up from the couch and pulled her to him as they headed out the door and to the elevators. They didn't say much. They both knew there weren't words that would make anything better. Derek didn't let go of her till they reached his truck. The moment she stepped away from him to go around to the passenger side, he felt lost without her presence. As soon as he had the truck backed out its spot, he reached over and took her hand in his. She looked up at him, sadness in her usually bright brown eyes, then squeezed his hand.

They drove to his house is silence. He opened his front door and motioned her in. "Hungry?" he asked. She shook her head, her back to him. He turned to lock the door and take off his jacket. When he turned back to her, he was surprised to see that she hadn't moved. Then he noticed her shoulders shaking ever so slightly. "Baby . . ." he started. She turned and was suddenly in his arms, in full on sob mode again. He tightened his arms around her, murmuring sweet nothings. He knew that she had to be exhausted. He considered for a moment, then gently led her to his room.

When he had been shot in his vest the previous month, Penelope had begun spending more time with him than she had in quite some time. She had slept in his guest room on more than one occasion. Morgan knew that she worried about all of them, and liked to be close to them when they were home. Hell, he liked to keep her close too. When she was near him, it was easier to keep all the darkness at bay. Tonight, though, he knew it wouldn't do at all to leave her alone in the guest room. She was too emotionally distraught right now. And, if he was being honest with himself, he needed to hold her until the sun finally shined down on them again.

He pulled back the covers on his bed and gently pressed her in the direction of the bed. She looked up at him, then around his room. She got that look in her eye that said she was getting ready to argue. "Derek . . ." she began.

"Hush, hard head," he whispered.

"I'm not sleeping in your room," she said, starting to get up.

She had so much doubt in her sad eyes that he couldn't help but say what was in his heart. "After what I saw tonight, I really just want to hold you while I sleep, okay? I don't want to be alone anymore than you do." He selfishly knew she wouldn't argue with him when he put it like that.

She sighed, then scooted over and patted the space next to her. He sat down and pulled her against his chest again. "He should have been able to hold her," Garcia whispered. "It's not fair that he never got to hold her, to tell her he loved her."

Morgan squeezed his arms around her, thinking again of the conversation he had with Reid earlier.

_"What if that's all I get?" Reid had asked._

_"Well, it's not." Morgan had answered him with conviction._

_"You can't say that." Reid had said, with that same fearful look he had worn all day._

_"Yes, I can. Because when we find her alive, and you finally get to lay your eyes on her, what's the first thing you are going to say to her?"_

_"That I love her."_

Morgan sighed, again feeling the utter desolation of knowing that he lied to Reid. He had made a promise he couldn't keep.

"Do you know that every time something like this happens, what my first thought is?" She whispered, sounding troubled

He shook his head, looking down at her.

She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. "I'm always thankful that it wasn't you. When I heard shots had been fired, and that she was dead, my first thought was '_Thank God_ _Derek is safe.' _How sick is that." He heard the shame in her voice, and the sadness. "Poor Reid." And then she was crying again.

The cowardly part of him was glad she was sobbing into his chest. Because if they had been sitting on, say, the couch, face to face, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from kissing her. It wasn't the first time he had wanted to. He had wanted to off and on for so long . . . but fear kept him from doing it. Because their friendship was rock solid. He would be lost without it. So they were stuck. And he contented himself with running his fingers through her hair. "Shh, Baby Girl, it's okay. It's going to be okay."

He heard Reid's voice again in his head. _"What if that's all I get?"_

Derek Morgan wrapped his arms tighter around the only woman, other than his mothers and sisters that he had truly ever loved, and whispered the words Reid had never had the chance to say. "I love you, Baby Girl."

He felt her warm hand slide over his. "Me too, D. Me too." And then, thankfully, sleep came.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Derek knew that he was dreaming. Knowing it was a dream, however, did not reduce the the horror of it. Nor did it make it possible for him to wake up.

He heard a menacing voice, one that the rational side of his brain knew had to be a figment of his imagination. Because George Foyet had been dead for years.

"Agent Morgan," the menacing voice drew out. "You sure as hell took your time. Your precious Baby Girl and I thought that you had forgotten about her."

_Can't be happening, can't be happening_, he thought. But he couldn't deny the gut wrenching fear at Foyet's words. "You will _not _touch her," he growled. He pressed down on the accelerator. He was driving, to wherever the asshole had Penelope. But where?

Foyet laughed. "You can't bully me through the phone, Agent Morgan. Have you forgotten I had your life in my hands, and let you live? I've already beaten you."

Morgan arrived at his destination, and at first he didn't know where he was. Then he realized. This was Hotch's house. This was not his nightmare. This was Hotch's dark reality. The reality in which he arrived too late to save the woman he loved. He slammed the car into park and jumped out, the phone still to his ear.

"Say goodbye to him, Dear Penelope."

"Derek, don't come!" He heard her voice, panicked and desperate.

And then in stereo, both over the phone and from the house before him, he heard a gunshot. He screamed and ran toward the house. And then he was in the door. Foyet stood before him, grinning. On the ground lay his woman, blood and bits of brain matted in her blonde curls. Then suddenly it wasn't Foyet, but Diane there, and Penelope was alive again. But Diane wrapped her arm around her neck, pulling her close. Garcia met his eyes, love shining through the fear. He could do nothing but watch as Diane raised her gun and fired the shot that would kill them both.

Derek jerked awake, closing his arms tightly against the woman curled up against his side. He tried to slow his breathing and wiped some of the sweat from his forehead. Garcia sighed and reached a hand up to caress his face. "Shh, hotstuff," she murmured sleepily. "S'ok . . . it's all ok." Her breathing evened out again, although her hand stayed on his face. He reached up with one hand and placed it over hers. His breathing was almost back to normal now. He breathed in her scent and relished in her nearness.

At some point, he calmed down enough to think about what it all meant. There was a terrible, ugly truth in that dream—something he really hadn't considered before. Being involved with the men of the BAU was hazardous for your health. Hotch's wife had left him, and even that hadn't saved her from Foyet. Maeve was dead, too. Granted, her stalker had nothing to do with the BAU, but still . . . And then there was this unsub that had come to their attention right after he was shot. Someone was out there replicating the cases the team solved. They were all being watched. Becoming involved with someone meant that your enemies would know the very best way to reach you.

Derek took in another deep breath and caressed the hand he held gently. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he knew that he was holding a woman he could easily spend the rest of his life with. He couldn't imagine his life without her. If he made her see that when he said he loved her, he meant it in the most passionate, amazing, life altering way, he knew that they would have something amazing. But what would it mean for her? One day, would he make an enemy like Foyet, who would take her away simply to punish him? He imagined trying to live through what Hotch had been through. What Reid had been through. He couldn't imagine how they could go on. Hotch had finally opened his heart again, after years of healing.

As Morgan lay there, he thought of another long-ago conversation.

_"I don't need you to protect me." She had murmured_  
"_Tough, I think I'm going to stay on the job a little bit longer."  
"Yeah? How much longer?" She asked  
"Every day of my life." _

He had meant it—every single word. Even then, when she was still with Lynch, he was already hers. He realized the meaning of his dream. Protecting her meant never allowing her to see how much he loved her. In the past, he had thought he couldn't give her what she would eventually want—children, a stable home, a _forever_. Now he could see forever all too clearly with her. But it would be hazardous for her health to be with him. He could never let her see how he truly felt. Because he couldn't bear it if someone used her against him.

He felt sad and tired, even more than he had when he had gone to bed. It was a huge weight to carry. He fingered the blonde hair fanned over his chest. He knew she was a sound sleeper, and there was little chance she would hear him if he spoke. So he allowed himself to say the words he could never let her hear. "Do you know, Baby Girl, that I think I've always been in love with you? And that if I could, I would spend the rest of my life loving you? But that happily ever after can't be for us, so I'm just really, really thankful to have you in my life." Even if he couldn't be with her in the way he wanted, he would make sure she knew what she was to him. He would say it out loud as often as he could. Because Reid's loss had reminded him that tomorrow was not a guarantee. He pressed a gentle kiss to her hair and closed his eyes. But when the sun came up, sleep still hadn't come.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Gah, you know what is depressing (besides this story so far?)? After this next episode, Carbon Copy, we have to wait almost an entire month before we get anymore new Criminal minds. Bleh. Will try and keep this going so we have some M/G action to keep us entertained. The lyrics featured in this chapter are from Red's new album Release the Panic. Check it out, they are AMAZING! Anyway, the first half of the chapter is pre-Magnum Opus and the second half picks up where the cameras went left off._

Chapter 4

It had been a week. Penelope Garcia sat in her bright kitchen and thought of Reid. It had been a week since Maeve had died, and a week since anyone had seen or heard from Reid. She knew he was still alive because when she came to leave him a basket, he had sometimes taken the previous one inside. She couldn't imagine how he was feeling. She sighed and sipped her coffee. She would clean up the kitchen and then stop by Reid's on her way to work. She genuinely missed her Junior G Man and his random snipets of facts. She worried that she would never see him smile again.

She sighed again, then got up and put her coffee cup in the sink. It felt too quiet in her kitchen, so she pressed the play button on her IPOD. Then she sighed again as she heard the first haunting chimes of the melody. It _would_ be this song. It reminded her so much of Reid.

_Darkness creeps into day light  
You're leaving  
Treasure sitting in our mind  
The memories  
The time we had was fleeting  
The strength is just believing now_

_The world I know can hate you  
The world I know can break you  
But as you go remember I'm by your side._

_The love within you can heal these tears that burn  
And through it all remember  
I'm by your side as you go._

She finished the dishes, thinking of Reid. She really hoped that he knew they were all thinking of him. That they were all there for him, if he needed them. She turned off the music. Looking at the basket she had packed for Reid last night, she grabbed a pink pad of paper and wrote a note for him on impulse. She tucked it into the basket, grabbed her jacket and headed out the door.

xxx

As they said goodbye to Reid and headed out of his apartment later that week, Morgan put his arm around her and pulled her into his side. She turned and looked at Reid's closed door one last time. "Do you think he's going to be okay?" she asked him.

Derek sighed. She could feel his fingers toying with her hair. "I don't know, mama. I suppose he just needs time. Today was a good start though, at least he finally let us in." After avoiding them for quite some time, Reid had finally started communicating with them again to help with a case of an artist in San Francisco who was creating art work from the blood of his victims. He had even traveled to San Francisco to meet up with the team. When they had returned, Reid had asked them to help clean up his apartment.

"Yeah, I suppose," Penelope sighed. "Want to grab some dinner? " The last thing she wanted right now was to be alone. She felt so tired . . . she was tired of worrying about all of them all of the time. She worried about Derek and Reid the most right now. It just seemed like the hits kept coming these past few months. They weren't getting anywhere on the unsub who seemed to be replicating their closed cases. Derek had been shot, albeit in his bullet proof vest. That still rattled the crap out of her. And poor Reid. He hadn't been in many (any?) relationships in the years that she had known him. To have this happen when he had finally met someone . . . All that she could think was that Reid was far, far stronger than she was.

Derek smiled at her. She wondered if she would ever get tired of that bright, amazing smile of his. _Nope, not happening_. "Of course, gorgeous. Dine in or carry out?"

"Hmmmm," she tapped her lips and made a dramatic show of thinking about it. "Decisions, decisions."

He playfully bumped her with his hip. "Woman, you are crazy. Make up your mind already!"

"Fine, fine. Carry out. I'm in the mood for comedy and ice cream."

"We are _not _eating ice cream for dinner," he laughed.

She giggled at him. "Ice cream is for _after_ handsome. And you call me the crazy one!"

Thirty minutes later they were eating some delicious Italian pasta in her kitchen. They ate in a companionable silence, as had been their way lately. They often ate dinner together in the days following the team's return from a case. Garcia found she had longed for Morgan's company more since his near-shooting had reminded her how easy it would be for him to be lost to her forever. He was always on the front lines, always the one to take the risks. She sighed and shook her head. That line of thought would do her no good.

"What's going on in that beautiful brain, woman?" he asked. Damn it, of course he'd noticed her abstraction. He was, after all, a profiler.

"You know, sometimes I wish you could turn that profiling thing _off _for a while!" she practically snarled at him.

He laughed at her. "No such luck."

She wrinkled her nose. "I know, it doesn't make it fair though."

He smiled, then looked suddenly serious again. "Seriously, Penelope, what's up?" he asked, concern in his voice and in his eyes. "Where did you go off to just now?"

She groaned and pushed up from the table, carrying her dishes to the sink. "I hate profilers!" she ranted. She heard his chair scrape the floor as he stood up, and then felt him behind her. She turned, and he tilted her chin up so that she could meet his eyes. She sighed. "You are so persistent. . . " she groaned.

"It's why you love me," he joked.

But it was too close to the truth today, and she was too raw from all of it to hide anything. "I do, you know," she whispered. "That's part of the problem."

He folded her into his arms, making her feel warm and safe. "That's not a problem, Baby Girl. That's a blessing."

She closed her eyes and hugged him back. "Stay?" she asked quietly.

"Always," he breathed into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: Thanks for the reviews! I'm obsessive . . . once I start something I can't get it written fast enough. So enjoy! Oh yeah, don't own Criminal Minds. J _

Chapter 5

Garcia woke up to the sound of her shower running. She smiled as she remembered last year, the first time she had woken up to Morgan in her shower. She had freaked out, because she thought something had happened between them without her remembering it. Since she and Kevin had broken up, and especially since he was "shot" before Christmas, the sleepovers had become far more common. She felt as if they were growing even closer, which she wouldn't have said was possible a year ago. Back then, she had already thought they were as close as two people could be, without being lovers.

_Lovers. _And then there was that. She thought about it sometimes. Okay, more than sometimes. More than she cared to admit. She'd been thinking about it more lately, because of the situation with Reid. Maeve's death was a horrifying reminder that life was fleeting. Love was an amazing gift, something that shouldn't be wasted or squandered. For years, she had thought that perhaps Derek didn't see her that way—she wasn't his usual"type," after all. But now, she wasn't so sure. When he had told her he loved her after Maeve's death, it had sounded like more than a declaration of friendship. She knew that they were closer than many couples who were intimate. Their friendship and their working relationship added layers upon layers of complications. It would be such a risk to reach for more between the two of them. But weren't some things in life worth the risk? She didn't want to live a life full of regret.

She heard the shower turn off. She supposed she should get up. Derek must have turned on the coffee pot before hitting the shower, because she could smell a delightful aroma from her kitchen. It was enough to finally get her out of bed. She poured two cups of coffee and then started some eggs for breakfast.

"Good morning, beautiful," Derek greeted as he came out of her bedroom.

Penelope turned and smiled at him, trying to ignore her disappointment at the fact he had taken his clothes into the bathroom with him. She had sort of been looking forward to the sight of him in one of her colorful towels again . . . _focus, Garcia!_

"I'll show you a good morning, hot stuff," she quipped, handing him a cup of coffee. He didn't take it. She met his eyes and was startled to see unmistakable heat there—crazy, hot, unmistakable heat that took her breath away. "Ummm, coffee?" She held the cup out to him again. _Frack_!

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, the heat was gone and he looked . . . _resolved_? She felt like she was going crazy.

"Thanks, gorgeous," he said, taking the coffee. "We have the day off, what's on the agenda today?"

"Correction," she said with a sigh, turning back to the eggs. "_You_ have the day off. Those of us bearing the technical analyst title, those of us who do not jet off at a moment's notice, do not get a day off. Those people still have to go in and deal with paperwork."

"Damn," he said, looking put out.

"Indeed," she agreed. "In fact, this goddess had best go get dressed, or I will be late." She scraped the eggs on to a plate with some toast and plopped it in front of him. "You, my vision, may stay in my humble abode as long as you wish," she quipped, trailing her hand along his shoulder. She headed for her bedroom to get ready for the day ahead, trying desperately not to think about the hot, hungry look she had seen in Derek Morgan's eyes just moments before.

xxx

Derek practically groaned as Garcia waltzed into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. The woman was driving him insane. Ever since the night of Maeve's death, when he had made his decision regarding taking their relationship beyond friendship, he had found himself wanting her more and more. He probably would have allowed that resolve to slip too, had it not been for that awful nightmare. It came to him almost every night, and was actually worse when she was nearby. He figured that it was because being near her reminded him how essential she was to him, and his cursed subconscious felt the need to remind him of that in the most horrific of ways. As much as he wanted her in every possible way, she could not be his. It wasn't safe. Beside the black marks already on his soul from his past, there was the dark net of unknown enemies to consider. He always should have considered them, but it hadn't occurred to him to do so until Reid had suffered his tragedy. In his mind, the disturbing trend of death for the love interests of the profilers in their unit was not to be ignored.

He sighed and ate his eggs, trying desperately not to think of his beautiful woman in the shower.


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Thanks again all for the wonderful reviews. Yes, I wish they would just get over it and get together too, but then our story would be over and I would be sad! Gotta have something to entertain me until Wednesday. Slight spoilers for Episode 8x09, Magnificent Light, mentioned in passing. _

Chapter 6

Morgan rode with Garcia to work, since he had left his truck there when they had returned from California. He had ridden in Ester to Reid's. He passively wondered if people talked about how much time he spent with Garcia—in any other office, going home with a coworker and leaving your car overnight would get the rumor mill started. Not that he gave a damn. Although, if people gossiped that they were together, then actually staying apart would be pointless . . . in the end, it was the perception that could get her in to trouble. He frowned at that thought.

"Woah, hot stuff, what just happened to your sunny disposition?" Penelope asked as she parked the car.

"Hmm?" He said, feigning ignorance.

She simply cocked an eyebrow at him. "Really, Morgan?"

He grinned, he couldn't help it. She looked so incredulous. She huffed at him, then got out of the car, pulling her jacket on as she went. She slammed the door, hard. Then he laughed outright. "Take it easy, sweetness, Ester isn't as young as she used to be."

"Oh. . . you . . you," Garcia was fuming now. She shook a bejeweled finger at him. "You are always so damn persistent when you think something is up with me. But you . . .if I ask you about something you play dumb! Just because I'm not a profiler, Derek Morgan, doesn't mean I'm an idiot! I can see what you are doing."

"Never said you were an idiot, baby . . ." He had no doubt that she was the most brilliant woman he'd ever met. Her IQ probably came close to Reid's.

"Shush! Not done yet!" She interrupted. "You try to dig into my brain all the time, but the minute I ask you about something you always evade. You make me dig, and prod, and poke AND THEN you tell me W.T.H. is going on."

He laughed at her again. She was adorable when she fumed. She, however, did not look amused. He plucked her on the nose with his finger. "You worry too much."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Do I need to remind you of the week we've had? Sometimes I think I can't possibly worry enough." He smiled at her, and knew that his grin had its usual affect on her. She smiled back. "You, Derek Morgan, are going to be the death of me."

That wiped the smile off his face. Too, too close to his thoughts of late. "And there it is again," she stated, frowning. "Are you going to talk to me? No, wait, I know. 'It's personal,' right? Sometimes you are such . . . such a MAN!" She slapped him on the shoulder, whirled, and marched off to the elevator. And just like that she had him smiling again.

"Bye, baby girl!" he called. "Dinner?"

"Not on your life Morgan!" she called over her shoulder. He smiled again. He knew she wasn't really mad at him. That was all that really mattered.

She probably was a bit irked with him though. He _did _make her work for information at times—not because he distrusted her, but because he didn't share things with her. He knew that she had been remembering last year, when he had been evasive about the reason he did not want to attend a banquet honoring his father's partner. He had claimed it was for personal reasons. Yeah, that hadn't gone over well. Being Garcia, she dug, found the answers, solved the problem, and managed to ease his guilt all in one fell swoop. He supposed he should try to be more open with her. But in this particular instance, he certainly couldn't tell her what was on his mind. _ "Oh, sorry, Garcia, I was just remembering that someday someone may try to kill you just because they think we're sleeping together, even though we really aren't. As much as I wish we were. But we can't, because I'm afraid if we do, you're going to end up dead." _ He couldn't even imagine her reaction to that.

He climbed into his truck and thought about what he would do with the rest of his day. Had he realized that Penelope had to work, he probably would have saved his run for later in the day, rather than doing it first thing in the morning. He had been looking forward to spending time with her. Three hours later, he had done all of the odd jobs around the house that had been needing attention. He looked at his watch. Damn, it was only eleven. He had a new property that required some serious TLC. He had been planning to tackle it on a free weekend, but those had been few and far between lately. No time like the present, he supposed.

xxx

Eight long hours later, the new property had plumbing that no longer leaked, a working garbage disposal, and new paint in the bedrooms. Morgan checked his phone as he packed up his tools. He was surprised to see nothing from Garcia. She usually sent him a message or two during the day, whether he was in town or not. He threw on his jacket and headed out into the cold February air to his truck. As he headed for home, he called her.

"You aren't actually mad at me, are you princess?" he asked when she picked up.

He heard her sigh. "Morgan, its Tuesday."

"And?"

"I have support group, silly. That's why I couldn't have dinner with you. And I was swamped at work."

He smiled. "Silly girl."

"You sound tired, D."

"I just spent my entire day busting my ass on a new house. I'm whooped."

"So go home and sleep."

"Yeah, I suppose." He would have rather have seen her.

"You okay?" She asked.

_No. I want to you. I'm tired of not having you._

"Derek?"

"Yeah, baby, just . . . you know."

"Yeah, I know. I talked to Reid at lunch though, and he's good, coming in tomorrow when the rest of you do."

"Hey now," he joked, "you found time to call the kid but not me?"

"Go home and go to bed handsome. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Goodnight, beautiful."

"Right back at you love."

As Derek climbed in to bed that night, he wondered if he could really keep his distance from her . . . if he even really _should._ If people really did perceive them to be a couple anyway, why not act on his feelings? Life was short—if the tragedy that surrounded them reminded them of anything, it was that. They had already spent a decade together without acting on their feelings. For the first time in weeks, he drifted off to sleep thinking of possibilities and a future.

In his dream, he woke up beside her in her bed. She smiled at him, kissed him. And then suddenly, he was walking home from somewhere—the store, maybe? His cell phone rang. "Hello Agent Morgan."

"Who is this?" he asked, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

"Agent Gideon always recognized my voice when I called. You do not?"

He understood then. Frank Breitkopf. He had forgotten about Gideon's loss at Frank's hands. How had he not thought of it before? He wished he could wake up. Instead, he ran. Even though he knew what was waiting for him, he had to run. He had to try to save her. He pushed open the door to her apartment, called for her. Went to the bed they had shared. And he saw the blood. He saw what was left of the woman who gave his world light and laughter. Just as Gideon had found his friend Sarah on the bed in his home. Suddenly, he was in the previous nightmare, the one had that repeated nearly every night since Maeve's death. He watched her die three times that night. He knew he was screaming when he woke up.

_AN2: Yeah, I really don't enjoy torturing Derek. I hope this chapter didn't wander too much, I always have a hard time with transitions. They are always so easy to write when they are together, but its hard to figure out what to do with them when the are apart. _


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: Eldest is back to school and my little bit is still sick. So I suppose I'll be writing a lot today J Here's a Monday treat. Yes, I know Morgan is being tortured. No, I don't enjoy it—you have to admit its totally in line with his character, and it is a really disturbing trend when you think about it. Anyway, expect a couple more angsty chapters leading up to Wednesday . . . then MAYBE we'll get somewhere with our favorite pair. As always, thanks for all the reviews!_

Chapter 7

Morgan didn't any more sleep that night. He sat with his phone in his hands for awhile. He desperately wanted to call Garcia, to make sure she was okay. He needed to hear her voice. But then he would have to explain his strange behavior and he wasn't ready to do that. He closed his eyes, and was immediately accosted by images from his dream. He groaned. He had seen so many dead, mutilated bodies in his time, but seeing his baby girl that way, even knowing it was a dream.

What did the addition of Sarah's method of death to his repertoire of horrible nightmares mean? Sarah and Gideon had once been involved, but were just friends at the time of her death. Her death hadn't even planned—it had been completely by accident that Frank had found her in Gideon's apartment all those years ago. Was the message to be gleaned from this new addition simply that the men of the BAU really were destined to be alone? Or that perhaps it didn't matter what he did . . . nothing could protect her if the wrong person happened along her path. His heart absolutely ached at that thought, because in a way he knew it was true. He hadn't been able to protect her from Battle, after all. The world was filled with dark, cruel creatures that would snuff out any light given the opportunity. Hotch, Gideon, Reid—they were all capable and skilled FBI agents. But they hadn't been able to stop the deaths of women close to them.

Morgan stood up in a rush. He couldn't keep thinking about this. He headed down the stairs to his home gym. Turning the music up loud enough to drown out his thoughts, he took his frustrations out on his heavy bag until the sun came up.

xxx

It was a little before seven when Morgan walked in to the BAU. He had been surprised to see Ester in the lot—Garcia usually came in closer to nine. He dumped his go bag and jacket in his office and headed to hers. He was desperate to see her, hoping that the sight of her alive and well would wipe out the images that invaded his senses every time he closed his eyes.

Her door was open, and he leaned against the frame as he drank in the sight of her. She was deeply engrossed in whatever she was doing at her babies. Periodically, she would roll her chair from one screen to another. She was a breath of fresh air, dress in an airy blue dress that made him think of spring. She had two silly pony tails on top of her head and a blue flower attached to each.

"Oh come on!" she ranted. She slid over to the next screen, looked at a file on the desk and flipped through it. "You can't hide from me you smarmy little shit."

That make him chuckle. She whirled her chair around. "Geez, Morgan, you scared the crap out of me!" she complained. She grabbed a stress ball from her desk and chucked it at his head. "How long have you been standing there?"

He caught the ball and gave it a squeeze, stepping in to her office. "Long enough to feel sorry for whoever you are trying to catch," he joked, leaning his hip against her desk. "What has you here so early, Goddess?"

"Hotch has me running stuff on a few of the open cases we have. Between that and maintenance on my babies, I've been uber swamped. Didn't make that up last night." She looked him up and down, then frowned. "Don't take this the wrong way, hot stuff, because you know you are a beautiful specimen of a man, but you look like hell. You okay?"

He scrubbed his hand over his face. Leave it to her to see right through him. In an office full of profilers, she was the one that could see through him the quickest.

He nodded. "I'm better than the guy you are looking for," he quipped. "He's screwed."

She reached over and put a hand on his. "Derek," she said gently, looking up at him. "I'm still not an idiot." The matter-of-fact way she said it had him smiling a genuine smile again.

"Fine," he said. "I'm better now that I've seen you. Happy now?"

She regarded him carefully. "I'd be happier if you would tell me what's bothering you."

He tapped her on the nose. "It's nothing, sweetness."

"Not buying it D." She handed him her coffee cup. "But I can see you aren't going to tell me anything, so at least make yourself useful and go get me some coffee."

xxx

Garcia watched Morgan carefully as he left her office in search of coffee. Something was definitely up with him—he looked as if he hadn't slept last night. This alone was not cause for major concern—he was an insomniac even on the best of days and this had been a tough couple of weeks. What really worried her is that even when he smiled, it didn't reach his eyes. He looked deeply troubled, as if he thought his world would crash around him at any moment. It was the same look she had imagined on his face every time she talked to him while he was in Chicago last year, looking for his cousin Cindy. She wished he wouldn't shut her out—she would have thought that after all these years, they would be past that.

He brought her coffee back a short time later, when she was up to her ears in financial data. "Give me a sec," she said, eyes never leaving her screen. She was so close to getting something useful on this guy.

She felt his hand cup her cheek. "It's okay baby. Work. It is, after all while we are here." He pressed a kiss to her head, and left.

She paused her key strokes for just a second, thinking about going after him, to ask him again what was troubling him. But he was right, work came first. Maybe if she could get something useful to give to Hotch, he could send information in his consult that would allow the local P.D. to nail this unsub without the team stepping in.


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: Spoilers for 8x14 All That Remains ahead_

Chapter 8

It had been a month since Maeve's death. Work had been a whirlwind—the team had been gone more than they were home. That was probably a good thing, since Reid had returned to work. Garcia supposed it was far better for him to be out in the field, focusing on catching bad guys, instead of at his desk, where he would have too much time for that brilliant brain of his to think.

Garcia sighed as she looked again at the clock. The team should be returning from their latest case in an hour or so. They had been working a missing persons case involving the daughters of a writer. The case had been filled with twists and turns. The father suffered from multiple personalities, but he hadn't hurt his daughters. Instead, the older sister had killed not only her younger sister, but her own mother the previous year. It was a bizarre twist that no one had been expecting. Garcia wanted to see her superheroes and make sure that all of them, but especially J.J., who had been alone in a house with the psycho sister.

She also wanted to see Morgan—things had been _off_ between them for weeks. After their exchange in the parking garage and their short conversation the following day, she almost felt as if he were avoiding her. Granted, the team had been away for most of the past few weeks. And he still joked with her when the opportunity arose. But something wasn't right. She still saw something off in his eyes. She couldn't put her finger on what was going on, but she intended to figure it out tonight. Plus she missed him—they hadn't spent any time together since the last time he had stayed over, after helping Reid clean his apartment.

xxx

When Morgan stepped off the elevator with the rest of the team, he wasn't at all surprised to see Garcia standing there waiting for them. She immediately folded J.J. into a warm hug, whispering in her ear. She smiled at the others, then turned her warm brown eyes on him. He drank in the sight of her. He had tried hard to put some distance between them, but it simply wasn't working.

"Hey Baby Girl," he murmured, looping an arm around her.

"Hey yourself, hot stuff." She bumped his hip with hers. "Do you have a lot of paperwork to do?"

He gave a non-committal shrug. Because he didn't have that much to do, and if he told her that she would wait for him. And if she waited for him, he would spend time with her. And there was no way in hell that if he spent time with her, he would be able to keep his distance from her. He missed talking with her, sitting with her and enjoying her company. The past few weeks had been excruciating, and he hadn't even been in the same state as her for most of them.

She stopped outside of his office door and turned to face him, searching his face. She sighed. "I'll be in my office," she said. "Come find me before you leave, please." She sounded so sad when she said the last word, like she thought maybe he wouldn't do it if she didn't ask him nicely.

"Penelope, wait," he called out. Damn it, he was screwed. "I don't have that much to do. It can wait till morning. Let's go get something to eat."

Thirty minutes later they were settled in on her couch with a pizza and beer, discussing which movie to watch.

"Something new, or something old?" she asked

"Hmmm, something new, I guess."

"Um, action, adventure, or comedy? Oh, wait! Avengers. Totally need to watch Avengers. In honor of my own favorite superheros." She grabbed the movie and waived it happily.

"Girl, you are crazy."

"You love that about me," she quipped.

He smiled sadly at her. He wished he could just tell her how he felt. "You know I do."

She looked up at him and frowned. Shit, he knew that look. She looked worried and determined. As she walked toward him and sat next to him on the couch, he couldn't decide if he was worried or relieved. "Derek . . ." she started, placing her hand on his cheek.

He closed his eyes and relished the feeling of her warmth and softness. As he did on the night of Maeve's death, he covered her hand with his own. He turned his face to kiss her hand. But it wasn't a chaste kiss like those he had previously bestowed on her. It was a caress. Because he had missed her, he cherished her and he wanted so badly to show her all of those things.

He heard her breath catch, and he looked at her, knowing that there was heat in his eyes. She looked confused and stunned. "Go ahead," he sighed, "ask away. I won't be evasive, I promise."

She tilted her head at him, looking slightly confused. "You . . . you . . ." She abruptly got up and walked to her little kitchen, talking quietly to herself as she went. Morgan groaned. He had no idea what she was doing now.

Ten minutes passed before she came back into the room. She sat on the chair across the room . . . he almost smiled when he realized she was sitting as far from him as humanly possible. He quirked an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to begin. He knew Penelope Garcia, and he knew she was about to break out in a full on rant.

She didn't disappoint. "You . . . you . . . you kissed me!" she accused.

"I kissed your hand," he corrected. "I've done that before."

"Uh uh, Morgan, not like that. You've never kissed me like _that_ before, I would have remembered. You act all cryptic and morose for weeks, refusing to tell me what's going on with you and then you come home and you freaking pour on the charm. What in the world are you thinking?"

"Do you really want to know?" He asked solemnly. "Because once we go down this road there probably isn't any going back."

"I want to see your smile in your eyes again, Derek," she said fervently. "Lately, when you smile, it never reaches your eyes. I've never seen you like that before."

He was across the room before he could think about what he was doing. Damn the consequences. He wasn't doing either of them any favors by trying to keep away from her. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.


	9. Chapter 9

Holy fracking cow. Derek Morgan was kissing her. And oh, the man could kiss. His hands were in her hair, his body pressed against her. She had no idea how long he'd be kissing her, or how long she'd been kissing him back, but she hoped he'd never stop. But eventually she would need to breathe again. When the kiss ended, Morgan skimmed his nose along her neck, then rested his forehead against hers.

"Umm, so there's that," she said softly.

"That," he said gently, "has been a long, long time coming baby girl."

She smiled. "What took you so long then, handsome?"

He sighed. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to the couch again. He sat, then pulled her against him.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time, but it became more . . . urgent after Maeve died."

"Uh, that was a month ago, hot stuff," she pointed out. She looked at his tired face, and saw the sadness that hid permeated his being the past few weeks was still there. They had just shared the most amazing kiss, and he looked devastated. He looked down at her coffee table, avoiding her gaze. Taking both hands, she placed them on the sides of his face and turned his gaze up to meet hers. "Talk to me, baby," she whispered. "Please."

"Reid, Hotch, Gideon . . . " His voice sounded so pained, it brought tears to her eyes. "Have you ever thought about it, Baby Girl? Other than me and Rossi, every single man who has worked in the BAU since in the past decade has lost a woman they love, in a horrible way. Rossi and I haven't even had anyone permanent . . . odds say if we did, the same thing would happen again."

"Derek . . ."

"I keep having this dream. Every night since watching Maeve die, since seeing Reid's face. I get a call from Foyet, and I listen to him shoot you over the phone." Her mouth went dry. _Oh_. "I'm trying to get to you but I can't get there fast enough. Then only after I see you on the ground . . ." He took a deep breath, placing both of his hands over hers as she held his face. "Only after I see you there does it all shift and you are in the same position as Maeve. Then I watch it again."

She didn't know what to say so she kissed him again. She didn't know how to fix this, how to make it better. Suddenly something occurred to her, and she stopped kissing him. Then she slugged him in the shoulder.

"Really, baby?" He asked incredulously.

"Is that why you got all weird lately? Because you were worried something would happen to me?" She was livid.

He looked confused. "Um, yeah, I watched Reid watch his girl's brains get blown out, so you can maybe see where I'm coming from." She cringed at his blunt choice of words. "Ugh, I'm sorry, Penelope, I just can't even explain it to you. Do you have any idea what it's like? To worry that someday someone might want to reach out and hurt you just to hurt me? It's what happened to Hotch. It's what happened to Gideon. And with what happened to Reid too . . . I'm not sure I want to play those odds, baby. Not when the price is your life."

She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. Because she was getting full on mad now.

"Do I have any idea what it's _like_?" She hissed. "I'm sorry, which of the two people sitting on this couch drove an ambulance loaded with explosives all around New York? Which one of us got pushed through a plate glass window by that psycho from your dream?" She took a calming breath, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "I have to worry every damn day you walk out that door that you aren't going to come back, but there is no way in hell that I would turn my back on you if I thought we had a chance, D. How stupid can you be!" And then damn it, she was kissing him again. "Is it really worth missing out on this based on what ifs?" She whispered. "Every time you walk on to that plane, I have to face the very real possibility that you won't come back. The likelihood of you being killed by a skeezy psycho is far more likely that something happening to me."

"There was Battle," he pointed out.

Indeed, there was that, she thought. But what were the chances of something like that happening again? "There, see," she said almost cheerily, "I've already had my quota of drama for this life time."

He chuckled, leaning his head against hers again. "I just can't bear the thought of something happening to you, Baby Girl," he whispered fervently.

"Nothing is going to happen to me, hot stuff. I'm tucked away safe in my lair most of the time anyway." She kissed him gently on the lips. "And it goes both ways, you know."

He smiled down at her, and it almost reached his eyes this time. Almost. She supposed it would take him time. She'd never met a man who was harder on himself than the handsome, kind man before her. He took everything in the world so personally; it figured that he would find a way to be guilty about love. She was almost positive that if she gave him time to adjust, to see that the world would not catastrophically end because he had spoken his heart, that eventually she would see his eyes glow again when he smiled.

"I love you," she told him. "Always have, probably always will."

He plucked her on the nose. "It goes both ways, you know." He said repeating her words.

"Now shall we watch our movie?" she asked. "We can assign each BAU member roles. I'm pretty sure Reid is Dr. Bruce Banner."

Derek chuckled. "Reid as a big green guy who can't control his temper? I don't see that at all!"

She hit play and curled against him as the movie started. Just as she had for years.


	10. Chapter 10

_AN: Spoilers for 8x15, Broken. Also, note the ratings change—changing to M just in case, because of the mature content covered in 8x15 and because it's hard to not get them hot and heavy :-) This will be the last chapter before tonight's episode. It's a shorty. Hopefully they will give us all something to carry us through the next 3 weeks of no new episodes. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, and I hope you ENJOY!_

Chapter 10

Garcia had run out of things to do around her house. She sank down on the couch and glanced at the clock. It was eleven at night. The team should be landing soon. They were coming back from a rather disturbing case in Texas involving an unsub who had been sent to an ex-gay conversion camp. She worried about how the case had affected her man. There were certainly parallels to be drawn between the abuse the unsub had suffered and Derek's own experience. Plus so much had been left unsaid between them the last night they were together.

After Morgan's confession on her couch several days ago, they had watched their movie. They had lain on the couch, discussing inconsequential nothings afterward. It wasn't too different from their usual movie nights, except that she had ended up laying chest to chest with him, cuddling in a far more intimate way that they usually did. Eventually Morgan had slipped his hands under the bottom edge of her shirt, gently caressing the skin there as they talked. If she had been a cat, she would have purred. They had fallen asleep like that, right there on her couch.

xxx

Morgan drove his truck towards Garcia's, thinking of the last time he had held her in his arms. He had been surprised when the sun peaking through the windows of her apartment had woke him up. It was the first time in a long while he had slept through the night, and certainly the first time since Maeve's death he had slept without being woken up by his horrible nightmares. He was intimately aware of his baby girl draped over him, her head resting on his chest. He was pretty sure her proximity had something to do with the absence of the dreams. This felt so much closer than laying next to her in a bed, with only her head resting on him. And yet it wasn't even a good start . . .

He shook that thought out of his head. He wasn't entirely certain what the was going to do. He still wasn't sure it was safe for them to be together. As much as he wanted her in every way, he wanted her safe even more. But since he had kissed her last night, he saw no harm in kissing her awake now. He gently tilted her face up and planted a kiss on her lips. She moaned softly, and responded.

"Good morning, beautiful," he murmured.

She opened her eyes and met his gaze. Shifting slightly, causing more contact in the place they wanted it most, she smiled up at him. "I'll show you a good morning, hot stuff."

He immediately felt as if he were on fire. Now it was his turn to groan. "Woman, we have to go to work. There aren't enough hours between now and then for us to go there." Still, he brought his lips to hers again, and lost himself in her warmth and softness.

Her phone buzzed, pulling him back to reality. She sighed and got up, reaching for it. "It's Hotch," she said, checking the text. "I need to head in."

Morgan told himself he wasn't disappointed. This was for the better. This gave him time to think about the situation. He kept telling himself that as she kissed him again, and kept repeating it as she went to go shower and change. He kept telling himself that as he drove home to change his clothes and get ready for work.

As he pulled up to her front door, he realized he still hadn't decided how to handle things. The rational part of his mind screamed that it would be a mistake to continue what they had started. It wasn't safe for her. He couldn't possibly give her what she needed. He was broken, not unlike Paul Westin.

He smiled as he saw her porch light on. He remembered something she had told him long before. "_I'll leave a light on for you." _She had that time, and so many times before. She knew of his demons, and loved him in spite of them. She knew him better than anyone; saw what he needed before he did. It was then that Derek Morgan knew then that there was nothing to decide. This was inevitable. It had been ten years in the making. He had given his heart to her years ago. She knew him inside and out.

She must have been listening for him, because as he walked up the steps to her door, it opened. She looked at him with love and concern shining in her eyes, and he knew felt as if he had finally come home. He grinned at her—the first _real_ smile he felt like he had given in a long time. "Miss me?" he quipped.

"You have no idea," she said. She moved aside so that he could step through the door. He walked in and turned to face her. She closed the door and turned to him. And then he was on her, trying to touch every inch of her soft skin at once. He pressed her against the door, his mouth on hers. "I swear, woman, if you want me to stop you better tell me now."

Her answer was to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer; kissing him as if her life depended on it. _Home_, he thought again.


	11. Chapter 11

_AN: More spoilers for 8x15, Broken. I'm going to keep continuing this, since Carbon Copy was pretty much devoid of much M/G action we'll just have our own fun! :-) This one is a shorty. I'm trying to keep this clean and hot at the same time. Not sure how well its working out . . . but here you go!_

Chapter 11

Derek woke slowly, aware of the soft woman draped over him, skin against skin. At first, he thought he was dreaming again—that this was the awful nightmare in which Frank killed her when he left the apartment. Then he remembered all that they shared the night before. He nuzzled her hair gently with his nose, breathing in her scent and kissing her head. He gently drew circles on her bare back, examining the contrast between his mocha skin and her paleness. He toyed with strands of her hair as he had that night Maeve had died, simply taking in her beauty and innocence. He was an idiot to have put off this moment for so long.

He felt her shift and then her soft brown eyes were smiling up at him. "Good morning, beautiful," he whispered, already looking forward to her response.

She grinned at him, shifting and then straddling him. "I finally get to show you a real good morning," she said, leaning down to kiss him. They didn't make it out of bed until lunch.

xxx

"So," she said, setting a sandwich in front of him. "Texas." She went back to the counter and retrieved her own sandwich, then sat down across from him.

"Yeah, Texas," he said. "It was rough. J.J. had a hard time with it. She said she couldn't imagine not loving Henry if he were gay." He paused, taking a sip of his water, contemplating. "I just can't imagine it, Baby Girl. My abuse was bad enough. I can't imagine having your parent sitting there next to you while you are being raped—condoning it, encouraging it. If Momma had any idea what had been going on, she would have done everything in her power to stop it. These parents paid for it to happen."

She reached for his hand. She looked up, and saw no pain in his eyes. That made her as happy as everything else that had happened in the past twelve hours. Judging from the look in his eyes, he didn't need to get anything else off his chest about what had happened during their last case. "So, what's our plan? We have two entire days off, barring no emergencies."

He smiled again. "Hush, woman, you will give us bad luck," he joked. "As for the plan, its whatever you want it to be, beautiful."

"Would it be ridiculous of me to say I don't want to do anything but hang around here with you today?" She slipped into his lap, lunch forgotten.

"I always knew you were crazy," he chuckled, kissing her.

She kissed him back. "Crazy about you . . . " she sighed.

"Likewise, beautiful."


	12. Chapter 12

_AN: Spoilers for 8x16 Carbon Copy. Its short and a little broken up, I didn't want to recount the episode word for word—basically filled in the blank from the episode. Don't own CM or the characters or the plot. If I did, we wouldn't have to wait for 3/20 to see another episode!_

Chapter 12

Garcia woke up slowly, surprised to see that Derek Morgan was still sound asleep. It was a rare (as in, doesn't ever happen) treat for her to wake up before he did. Usually he was smiling down at her when she woke up, or had already left for his morning run. This morning, though, she got to lay there and simply enjoy the hard planes of his chest, his handsome jaw line, and how boyish he looked relaxed in sleep. He was exactly what she had called him all those years ago—a sculpted chocolate god. And oh, how she had an acquired taste for him.

She still couldn't believe how perfect the past week had been. Work had been slow, allowing the team to stay home and keep a normal nine to five schedule. This allowed the two of them to spend nearly every evening together. They hadn't told the rest of the team that they were together—it was another layer of complicated she had no desire to deal with. So at work, they kept their distance, except for an occasional flirt to keep anyone from suspecting something was up. Once they left the BAU for the day, it was a different story. Sparks flew. Repeatedly. Hot, amazing, adventurous sparks—at her place, his place, it didn't matter.

It scared her, more than a little, how easily they had fallen in to this crazy affair. It was almost too good to be true. Part of her worried she was dreaming. She trailed her fingers along his perfectly sculpted abs, smiling to herself. It was so rare for her to wake up before him, she figured she might as well take advantage. She trailed her hands lower, looking forward to showing him yet another one of those "good mornings" they had teased each other about for so long.

xxx

Garcia's phone rang as she sat at the desk in her lair. "Hello?" She answered.

"This is Ms. Mendez at the reception desk, we have a flower delivery for Agent Jaraeu, would you like to come get it?"

Garcia smiled. Will was being thoughtful again. "Sure thing, I'll be down in two wags of a dog's tail!" She hung up and cheerily headed to the elevators. As she crossed through the bullpen, she caught sight of Morgan across the bullpen. She flitted him a wave then tried to look casual as she looked toward the elevator. She could feel his eyes on her. There was no way they were going to be able to keep their secret from an office full of skilled profilers.

Down at the reception desk, she signed for a beautiful arrangement of white lilies in a tall clear vase. She saw the note in the flowers and smiled. Sweet gestures always made her smile. She turned and headed back to the elevators, completely unaware of the bombshell she carried in her arms.

xxx

Derek sat at the round table as they discussed the Replicator case, trying hard to focus on the task at hand. The unsub following the team's moves had made contact. Strauss was looming, pushing them to close the case as quickly as possible. Garcia announced they had a hit on ViCAP in Philadelphia and the nervous feeling in his gut got worse as Hotch announced they would be wheels up. Which meant while the rest of them were in Philadelphia trying to chase down this bastard, his Baby Girl would be here, alone and vulnerable. In his brain, he knew that wasn't true—she would be in a secure FBI building and would have an agent assigned to her home. But the irrational, protective side of him could not stop thinking about the horrible ways she had died in his dreams.

He looked at Strauss, allowing her presence to remind himself that he needed to keep his emotions in check. Then he glanced at Reid, who had been unusually quiet as they reviewed what they knew. Nothing good could come from this. Hotch dismissed them and they left the war room to gather their things. He watched as Garcia paused to grab Reid's hand, squeeze it. He quickly went to his office, grabbed his go bag and made sure everything was in order. Then he strode to Garcia's office. She wasn't there yet—she was probably still talking with Reid. He took a few calming breaths, attempting to again get his emotions in check.

She walked in then, a fresh breath of air in her colorful pink outfit. He pushed the door closed after she entered, and pulled her to him in such a quick motion that she squeaked in surprise. He crushed her body against his and claimed her mouth in a hot kiss. "You damn well better be careful while I'm gone," he said when he released her.

She looked at him with concern in her eyes. "As always, same goes D." She placed her hand over his heart, and patted him gently. "Just . . . be careful."

He pulled her to him again and kissed her. "Seriously, baby girl. Don't leave here without an agent with you. Please. For me."

She smiled. "As you wish, my chocolate God. Keep an eye on Reid, okay?"

He kissed her once more, on the nose this time. "Yes, mama, I will keep an eye on the kid."

"Love you."

"Same goes," he said with a smile, reluctantly letting her go. He turned and headed out the door, trying not to think about the what could happen while he was gone.


	13. Chapter 13

_AN: So does anyone else thing its WEIRD the writers decided to name this unsub? Because usually our favorite profilers don't name their unsubs. In fact they usually yell at people for it. Sigh. Anyway, more 8x16 spoilers ahead. Another shorty. Because I figure something is better than nothing (or reruns!)_

Chapter 13

Derek stepped outside of the precinct and took a deep breath of fresh air. Damn, this case was sucking the life out of them. It was absolutely frightening to know that this unsub was targeting them all. He knew Hotch and J.J. were worried for their children. Hotch felt a huge responsibility on his shoulders to keep everyone safe. Reid had been uncharacteristically quiet. Rossi was frustrated. Blake was bothered, but she didn't completely grasp everything the rest of the team had been through together. And although he tried desperately to focus, Morgan spent as much time worrying about Garcia as he did thinking about catching the Replicator.

He tried not to think about the fact that she had had fucking Agent _Anderson_ drive her home for a shower. Agent Anderson, who had driven Elle Greenaway home after it was clear the team was being targeted by someone. Agent Anderson, who had left Elle at home, _alone_, where the unsub had shot her. Where the unsub had written a message in her blood. Elle had survived, but she had been irrevocably altered and lost to them after that. Hotch had assured Morgan that he had given Anderson specific orders regarding Garcia's safety, but it didn't make him feel any better. Their main suspect had just suicided. And based on the way things went down, Donnie Bidwell wasn't the Replicator. Yes, he had definitely insanguinated the nurses. But he was not the Replicator.

He took at his cell phone and thought for a moment. He hadn't called Garcia for anything not related to the case. He knew that Strauss would be watching them closely—they could not afford for their relationship to come out right now, when the powers that be were already pushing for the team's removal from the case. But damn it, he wanted to hear her voice. He needed to reassure himself she was okay. He needed to make sure fucking Anderson was still there watching over her.

"Mogan!" He turned to see Reid holding the front door to the station open. "Hotch needs you."

He clutched his phone, sighed, and put it back in his pocket.

xxx

Garcia leaned forward at her desk and pressed her fingers in to her temples. This was the part she hated more than anything else. The waiting. Right now, the people she loved were willingly walking in to an incredibly dangerous situation. Sometimes she got to be in their ear when they went in, but today wasn't one of those days. She knew Strauss was listening in, but someone would call her if they needed something. There were times, in the past, when no one called her to tell her the important things. Like when Morgan had been shot. Yes, she understood it had been in his bullet proof vest, but it would have been nice to get a call. Instead, she had overheard a couple of random people from communications talking about shots fired during a BAU operation. She had almost come unglued while she waited for more information. Then she had proceeded to ream J.J. a new one for not thinking the incident warranted a call.

She glanced at the clock again. It had been ten minutes since they had gone in. She looked at her cell phone. Nothing. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and counted to ten. She tried to think of something else to do to occupy her time, but came up with nothing. Then she heard heels clicking in the hallway. Strauss came through her door, causing her to shoot up from her chair.

"Ma'am?" she half asked, half exclaimed.

"Ms. Garcia," Strauss began, "I just wanted to let you know that the team has cleared the building. Nothing else is needed tonight."

"But . . ." she felt so confused. Why was Strauss even here? She could have called.

"I know how you feel about your team Ms. Garcia—how all of you feel about each other." Strauss said. "I just wanted to let you know, in person, that they were fine."

"Was he there?"

"No, he was not."

"But . . . "

"Go home, Ms. Garcia. That's an order. Agent Anderson is waiting for you in the bull pen." With that, Strauss turned and left.

Penelope looked around, completely dazed. She checked her phone again, willing a text from Morgan to appear. She turned off her babies, looked around once more and headed out the door. She could only follow orders, and hope that someone would call and explain something to her sometime soon.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

An hour after they had entered the room the Replicator had so painstakingly prepared for him, the team finally headed out.

"We've done all we can here," Hotch had announced. "Let's go get a little sleep."

"We're staying," J.J. said. It wasn't a question.

"For at least a few days," Hotch agreed. "Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll resurface."

Morgan knew they were not going to get lucky. This asshole was long gone. He had made his point. He had them where he wanted them and now he would move on. Why shouldn't he? He knew they would go home eventually, and Morgan was absolutely certain that the Replicator would be waiting for them when he did.

Home. Where Penelope was. Alone. Without the team. _FUCK!_ He scrubbed his hands over his face as he followed the others down to their vehicles. He wanted to call her. They had been cautious about communicating because they were all being so carefully watched by the powers that be. As the others got into the SUVs, Hotch stopped to talk to the lead SWAT agent. Morgan held back, deciding he needed to get something out of the way while he could.

"Hotch," he said. "I want another agent on Garcia until we get back."

"Morgan . . . "

"She's all by herself, man," he exclaimed, knowing that he was showing too much. "She doesn't carry a gun. The rest of us can take care of ourselves but she can't."

Hotch raised an eyebrow. _I hope she doesn't find out you said that_, it seemed to say. "I understand your concern, Morgan. We'll take every precaution."

Derek exhaled, closing his eyes. "Thanks."

He pulled out his phone. He was going to text her. But fuck it, he wanted to hear her voice.

"Derek?" She answered, sounding breathless and more than a little stressed.

"Hey, Baby Girl," he said. He closed his eyes, because he knew how skilled the people sitting around him were in reading people. Maybe if he closed his eyes, the depth of his emotions would be a little less obvious to them. He knew that this secret was going to be hard to keep.

"Oh my God, are you okay? Because I didn't hear anything, and then Strauss came to my office! She never comes to my office, I've been working there for like, a decade and she hasn't EVER stepped foot in my door." Morgan smirked as she ranted. All he really wanted to do was hear her voice, without giving any more away to those sitting around him. This was perfect. Just like her. "And she said you guys were fine, but that's all she gave me, and she sent me home, so I've been sitting here for an hour worrying about all of you. And there are two agents outside my door, not just one. What in the heck happened? Derek? Are you there?"

He chuckled. "Yes, we are all okay. He wasn't there."

"She told me that. What happened?"

All levity was gone now. He doubted she would react well to what had been left for them. Hell, he wasn't reacting well to what had been left for them. The pictures of everyone else were troubling enough, but the pictures of Penelope made him go cold. The unsub had captured her heading in to her support group meetings. He had taken shots of her in the dress she had worn to the event they had gone to back at the end of the year. And unlike the rest of them, she didn't carry a gun. She wasn't skilled in self defense. Damn it, damn it, damn it. "He had pictures, Penelope."

"Pictures?"

"Of all of us." He paused, but she didn't say anything. "He's been following all of us for a long time. He had pictures of everyone on the team going about their daily routines. Hundreds of pictures."

"Oh."

Indeed, he thought. There was so much he wanted to say that he couldn't. "Hotch said we'll stay for a few more days."

"You think he's gone." Like J.J. earlier, it was a statement, not a question.

"Yes."

"Call me later, okay? When you can really talk."

"Of course."

"I love you and I know you can't say it back right now. 'Bye hotstuff."

"Later, Garcia."

He disconnected, and turned to see J.J. watching him. "She doing okay?"

"She didn't see how bad it was."

J.J. pursed her lips and nodded. It was bad. They all knew it. This guy had been following them for a long time. They wouldn't be able to do anything without looking over their shoulders until he was caught.

xxx

It was another hour before they were checked in to their hotel and settled in. Morgan pulled out his tablet and opened Skype. A phone call wasn't going to cut it—he needed to see Penelope and make sure she was okay. He was almost certain that the pictures from his dreams would be starring front and center in his nightmares tonight.

A few seconds later a tired looking Garcia popped up on his tablet. She was wearing her adorable pink kitty pjs, and looked quite toasty. He smiled at her and stretched out on his hotel room bed.

"Now there's a sight for sore eyes," she said.

"Likewise, beautiful." They didn't say anything for a few moments—she seemed as content to soak up the sight of him as he was to soak up the sight of her.

"You okay?" She asked finally. The view shifted a bit as she picked up her phone and reclined on the couch, pulling her afghan up to her chin. He wished again that he was there with her.

"Yes . . . no . . . I don't know, baby. I'm worried about you."

"Well that's silly," she said. "I'm not the one who pushed a cop out of the line of fire on this trip. No bullets whizzed by my head in the past 72 hours." The implication was obvious, because he had done both of those things. But that wasn't the point.

"Nothing silly about it. You don't have a gun."

"I don't like guns."

"Whether you like them or not doesn't matter. There were so many pictures of you in that room, Baby Girl." He knew he sounded like a broken record, but he was having an incredibly hard time with this.

"It sounds like there were so many pictures of all of us," she said matter-of-factly.

"But. You. Don't. Have. A. Gun." He said is slowly, emphasizing each word, because clearly she wasn't grasping the gravity of the situation.

"I feel like we've had this conversation before," she laughed, smiling.

"When I get back we're doing a self defense course again." He had made her take a few after Battle, but that had been years ago. Time for a refresher.

"Derek . . ."

"Please. For me."

"Ugh. Okay. Fine. You know I can't say no to you."

"Thank God," he said, and meant it.

"Go to bed, D. You've been up for what, 72 hours?"

"Something like that. I miss you."

"Me too. Go to sleep."

"Be safe, okay? The agents are still outside?"

The camera shifted again as she got up and walked to the window. "Damn you, Derek Morgan, it is cold. I can't believe you made me get out from under my toasty blanket."

Cold is better than dead, he thought. But he didn't say it.

She turned the phone so she could see the two obviously government cars sitting outside her apartment. "Happy now? Goon squad in place."

He ground his teeth. That was a poor choice of words, because it reminded him of the situation with Battle. The officer out front hadn't made a difference then—the unsub had murdered him and come straight for Garcia. Fortunately he had stayed, and because of that she was alive. This time, he was too far away to do any good.

"Text me in the morning, okay? Just so I know you are okay."

"You worry too much," she said.

"I feel like we've had this conversation before, too."

She had made it back to the couch and smiled at him, once again ensconced in her colorful afghan. "Seems like we repeat ourselves a lot. Go to bed, my love." God, he wanted to hold her in his arms. "Call me if you need me, okay?"

"I will," he agreed.

"Promise?"

"Yes, silly girl," he laughed. "Good night."

"Sweet dreams, D."

As he hung up, he doubted there would be anything sweet about his dreams.


	15. Chapter 15

_AN: For all you angst-haters, ANGST ahead. Come on, it's Morgan we're dealing with her. You know he's gotta get all introspective. Lyrics at the end are by Nickleback, Trying Not to Love You, from their album Here and Now. Don't own any of it, of course. Oh, and THANK YOU for all the reviews-this is my first fanfic to get over 100 reviews (This is my 5th story). You guys are awesome!_

Chapter 15

Garcia took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. This had been the _longest_ two days on the face of the planet. There had been no new developments on the Replicator. She hoped the team would come home soon. She talked to Derek every night, and could tell that he wasn't sleeping well. In fact, she suspected he wasn't sleeping _at all_, but she couldn't get him to fess up to that. He was evasive, at best, any time she brought it up. She had been trying to keep herself busy at work, but there was only so much she could do without anyone else here. Her backlog had been completely cleared up by noon today.

She glanced at the clock again, then decided to make a call she'd been thinking about all day.

"Prentiss."

"Hey, Em!" Penelope couldn't help but smile—she missed Emily terribly, even though she had been gone for more than six months.

"Garcia! It's so good to hear your voice."

"How are things?"

"I'm worried about you guys. Hotch called me yesterday and filled me in."

"I thought he might," she said. When Prentiss didn't say anything, she sighed. "This sucks, Em."

"Yup. But you guys will get him."

"We've got nothing." Penelope shifted, picking up a colorful troll doll from her desk and playing with his hair.

"We've solved cases on less."

"True."

"How is everyone doing?"

"Damned if I know. I haven't seen anyone in days. Except Derek, and only over Skype. He looks like hell." She frowned again, thinking of the tired bags under his eyes. She took a deep breath. "Want to know a secret?"

"Only if it's a fun secret."

"Ummmm."

"OH! You and Morgan?" Prentiss sounded elated, but not surprised.

"How did you know?"

"That was just a matter of time, Garcia. The only two who didn't know it was the two of you."

"Yeah, but I think it's actually worse that we're together right now. He's freaking himself out."

"The whole situation _is_ pretty freaky, you have to admit." Prentiss pointed out.

"Yeah, but . . ."

"No buts, Garcia," she interrupted. "Morgan has always been fiercely protective of everyone, and of course he is going to worry about you. Hell, I'm worried about you."

"I have two agents outside my door whenever I'm home!" Garcia exclaimed. "And . . . and, the REST of the time I'm inside one of the most secure buildings in the northeast!"

"But you don't carry a gun," Prentiss said matter-of-factly.

"Holy fracking cow, _why_ does everyone keep bringing that up!? I don't like guns. I don't need a gun. I have computers. I can do wonders with computers. Guns are scary and hurt people and . . . " She started to pace around her office as she ranted.

"Garcia!" Prentiss interrupted her again. "Calm. Now."

Penelope took a deep breath. "Sorry . . . it's just . . . I worry about them too, Em. I always have. Him especially."

"I know," Prentiss assured her. "Damn, I have to go. Keep me updated, okay?"

"Yeah. Miss you Em."

"Me too. And about damn time you and Morgan got your act together. I'm happy for you."

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Garcia glanced at the clock again and sighed. She just wanted this day to be over. She wanted everyone home. She wanted the Replicator out of their lives, but she knew that last one wasn't happening any time soon.

xxx

Morgan leaned back in his chair on the jet. Finally, they were going home. It had been three days since the Replicator had lured them to the Zugzwang Room, as they often referred to it. They had gotten nothing new on the Replicator, so they were finally heading back to Virginia. Morgan wasn't entirely sure how their lives were supposed to just _go on_, now that they knew someone was following their every move. They would get another case and they would all have to leave their families again. He would have to leave Penelope again. Then there was the whole other issue of how they were supposed to even see each other if they both had an FBI detail attached to them at all times. Of course, how long would Strauss even justify the man power to guard them all around the clock?

Shit, what if Strauss pulled the detail off while the team was away on a case? He hadn't thought of that. He would talk to Strauss before they were sent out again. Even if she couldn't keep details on all of them, he would ask someone to be put on Garcia's house when they were gone. He knew some of the pictures of her in the Zugzwang Room had been taken while the team was away. An entire slew of expletives went through his mind as he pondered _that _again.

He took a deep breath, trying to center himself again. He couldn't remember ever being this out of sorts about something. He had felt a terrible sense of foreboding since walking into the Zugzwang Room. He had spent most of the past three days in a barely disguised state of panic. He hadn't slept much. He felt as if his life was completely out of control, and there was nothing he could do about it. The closest he had ever come, in his adult life, to feeling like he did now was the way he had felt when Cindy, his cousin, had resurfaced after they had assumed she was dead. He had felt out of control, like he had failed her by not looking harder for her. She had endured unimaginable torture at the hands of her "husband" while he was convincing his family she was dead.

This time was worse. He felt as if his life were going to slip away without him having a say in it. Because when it came down to it, he knew Penelope was the only thing that gave meaning to his life. Had it not been for her, he would have slipped into the abyss long ago. She had always been there, in his ear, demanding that he come back whenever things went south. She would never have forgiven him if he hadn't, so he always made it back home. After those god-awful dreams, seeing her face plastered all over that room next to the rest of theirs had made his blood run cold. They were all at risk, but her far more than the rest of them. He could not bear to lose her, but he had to acknowledge it was a real possibility that something could happen to any one of them. Anything could happen to her. He could not deal with even the _thought_ of something happening to her.

For the briefest of moments, he wondered what he would have been feeling if they hadn't become intimate. Would he be such a wreck if they weren't sleeping together? He almost snorted out loud as soon as he considered it. They may have just crossed the line into a physical relationship, but he and Garcia had been _intimate _for years. They had known each other inside and out for longer than many marriages lasted. She knew all of his darkest secrets. He loved her whether they were sleeping together or not. He would be just as worried about her if they weren't together. The dreams though, made him worry about her a thousand times more than he would have otherwise. As did Maeve's death—the ever present reminder the members of the BAU were not immune from catastrophic loss.

He put on his headphones and leaned back in the chair, wishing the short flight was already over. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the music.

_Trying not to love you  
Only goes so far  
Trying not to need you  
Is tearing me apart_

_Can't see the silver lining  
Down here on the floor  
I just keep on trying  
I don't know what for_

_Trying not to love you  
Only makes me love you more. _

He would be with her soon. He smiled as the thought flitted through his mind, moments before sleep finally overtook him.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

She had considered waiting for him in his office, but didn't want to deal with the implications should the agents assigned to guard her decide to mention it to Strauss. Although, in all honesty, that could happen anyway, because she had no doubt he would be showing up at her door as soon as humanly possible. For that reason, she was pacing around her kitchen. The team should be in soon. After nearly a week without seeing him, she was on edge.

She felt as if she spent hours doing the same thing—pace the kitchen, look at the clock, pace the kitchen. She nearly jumped out of her skin when there was a knock at the door. Derek would _not_ knock. He had a key. With very little excitement, she opened the door. Agent Gill, one of the two agents assigned to her door tonight, smiled at her. And behind him was a very stoic looking Morgan. Garcia searched his face, and found it unreadable.

"Ms. Garcia," Gill greeted her. "Agent Morgan just arrived, I figured I would show him in and say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" she said, a bit confused.

"Yes, Agent Hotchner called to let us know Agent Morgan would stay with you tonight. Agent Nelson will stay outside, but SSA Hotchner saw no need to have three agents on you. So I'm headed off. Just wanted to make you aware."

"Oh," she said, looking to Derek. His features were schooled—she could read nothing in his face. How had Hotch known Morgan would come here? Did he know about them? "Thank you Agent Gill."

Gill waved Morgan in and then pulled the door behind him as he left. Derek stood there, just watching her with dark, shadowed eyes. But she noticed his jaw working, betraying the emotion he was holding back. She was not sure why he was holding back, though, because they were alone now. He stood several feet from her—watching.

"Derek?" she said questioningly.

Before she could comprehend his actions, he had crossed the distance between them and pulled her against his chest. His fingers were in her hair, his mouth crushed down on hers. His eyes burned into hers, filled with heat and desire. She moaned against him. He pulled back, his forehead resting against hers. Gently, he stroked her face with his knuckles. "I've miss you, Baby Girl," he whispered. He kissed her again, but this time it was different. Usually his kisses were hotter than hot, making her feel as if she would self-combust. But they were always filled with a fierce power. This kiss made her feel precious, like his most cherished possession. It was gentle and hot all at the same time. Her heart felt as if it would explode from the gentle need behind those kisses.

They somehow made it to her room. He murmured to her in his rich, deep voice as he took her clothes of, kissing her everywhere as he went. "Sweet, soft angel. So perfect. So lovely." She, on the other hand, could not formulate a single coherent thought. There was so much love between them as they came together that it brought tears to her eyes.

xxx

She woke sometime later to go to the bathroom. After their tender lovemaking, they had immediately fallen asleep in each others arms. She thought again about how tired he looked. Hopefully they had a few days off in front of them, so that he could catch up on his sleep. He would worry less as long as he was home, and they were together. Her Hot Stuff was certainly a worrier. As she finished in the bathroom, she heard him call out. It was incoherent. As she quickly left the bathroom, she could make out his figure tossing in the bed. He was dreaming again. She had suspected this was the reason he hadn't been sleeping well. She slid back in to bed next to him, caressing his face. "Shhh, Derek, wake up. I'm right here."

His eyes flew open and he grabbed her wrists, flipping her over so quickly she had no idea what happened. "No!" he cried as he came awake. One moment she was next to him, the next she was pinned under him, her arms over her head. The look of anger and fear in his eyes was one she had never seen before. She watched as he came back to himself, the anger quickly replaced by shame. "Christ, I'm sorry Baby Girl," he said, quickly releasing her arms and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

She sat up and put her hand on his shoulder. "There is nothing to be sorry for, Hot Stuff."

"The hell there isn't. I practically attacked you just now." He said, obviously frustrated with himself.

"Are they the same dreams you were having before?" she asked gently.

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Yes, and no," he answered. She waited for him to go on but he didn't.

She hit him with a pillow. "Truly, Derek, that helped a lot. Thanks for clearing things up." She knew it was silly to be frustrated with him for this, of all things, especially given all that had happened lately. But she couldn't help it—would he ever just give her a straight answer?

He chuckled, reaching for her as he laid back down. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and tucked her in to his side. "I'll never get tired of you making me smile during the times I think it's impossible to smile." He said with a grin.

"I, however," she said, poking his perfectly sculpted chest, "am damn tired of you making me dig for every single detail. Come on, D, talk to me. I don't like seeing you like this. When was the last time you slept?"

"Just now," he said with a smile. She punched him. He laughed. "Okay, okay, woman." He looked down at her with serious eyes. "Other than a quick hour of sleep on the plane, I haven't slept more than a couple of hours since we left Quantico. And I haven't slept hardly a wink since we found the Zugzwang Room."

"The Zugzwang Room? You named it?" She asked, a bit incredulous.

He sighed. "Are you sure you want to know this? Because you'll sleep better without knowing all of the shit going on in my head, I promise you."

"I'll sleep better if you actually sleep, hot stuff. Now spill."


	17. Chapter 17

_AN: A special treat since I didn't get a chance to post anything all weekend. A two-fer. Happy Monday and thanks as always for the reviews. Glad everyone is enjoying!_

Chapter 17

Morgan knew he couldn't put this off anymore. He was going to have to tell her all of the details of that room, and of his dreams. As much as he wanted to protect her from all of it, he knew she needed to know. She was, after all, a part of their team. And he supposed he needed her to understand how much it scared the shit out of him to think about something happening to her. He just didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want the darkness that always seemed to surround all of them to reach out and touch her.

"They've told you what was in the room?" he asked.

"I know some of the details," she said. "But I haven't seen any pictures or anything. Lots of photos of all of us, a dead body, and the word zugzwang. That's pretty much all I know."

"Reid brought all of the pictures back," he said. "You can see them Monday, if you want. There are so many. Some of them are from last year, before Prentiss left. But there weren't any of her in the room. Hotch called her though, just to let her know what's going on."

"Yeah," she said. "I talked to her yesterday. I told her about us." He raised an eyebrow at her. "She wasn't surprised," Garcia said with a frown.

He smiled and kissed her head again. She didn't understand that everyone could see this coming from a mile away—everyone but her. He didn't understand what she saw in him that made her think there was something special about him that made him above her. It was ludicrous. If anything, she deserved better. Not the other way around.

"I was worried about you before I saw the pictures," he said. "We are all together, but you are here by yourself far too often. You don't carry a gun . . ."

"Yes, I am aware of that fact," she interjected, frustrated. "But thank you oh so very much for pointing it out yet again."

He chuckled. There she went again, making him laugh when it shouldn't have been possible. "I just feel like you are the most vulnerable of all of us, Baby Girl. Not to mention the rest of us are interchangeable, but there is only one Goddess who can crunch all of the information we throw out and give us a short list back. I worry someone is going to figure out that without you, we are completely and utterly useless."

"That's not true," she said quickly.

"Okay, well you make us more efficient," he conceded. "Even you have to admit that."

She smiled. "I am faster than a bolt of lightning, aren't I?"

"So, long story short, seeing those pictures of you freaked me out in the extreme. That on top of the dreams I was already having . . ."

"Nothing is going to happen to me," she said, putting a hand on his face.

"You don't know that," he said. "Anymore than I do. I wish I did, but I don't."

"Derek . . ."

"Did I ever tell you about the conversation I had with Reid before Maeve died?" he asked. She shook her head and waited for him to go on. "He was thinking allowed about her—about how he might not get any time with her. And I promised him he would get more. It was a promise I couldn't keep."

"Hot stuff . . ."

"I wish I could promise I could keep you safe, but what if I can't?" His voice was down to a whisper now. "What if, while we are away, and our guard is down, the Replicator decides to come for you? Like Frank came for Sarah and Foyet came for Haley?"

She wrapped her arms around him. "It is what it is," she said softly. "We can't live our lives in fear, baby. If we do, he wins. That's the sort of stuff these sickos live for. So we're going to take our days together and live them. I will not live in fear." She kissed him.

He closed his eyes. He never ceased to be amazed by her strength. He had never met someone so sure of the good in the world, so sure that things would work out as they should. It was one of the many reasons he loved her. He told her that, and then he showed her with his body, because the words simply weren't enough.

xxx

They slept long after the sun came up. When they woke, they made love again. Then they showered. And made love again. She smiled as she got dressed. Even though he was forty, there was certainly nothing wrong with Derek Morgan's sex drive. It had not escaped her notice that he hadn't broached the subject of his nightmares during their middle-of-the-night conversation. She supposed she'd have to bring it up yet again. She almost hated to push the issue, but otherwise he would hold it in until it drove him insane. Better to pry it out of him while she could, so that when he did need to leave again, she would be better equipped to help him.

She crossed the beaded curtain into the living area of her apartment, smiling at Morgan as he handed her coffee. "So what's on tap for today, Hot Stuff?" she asked. It was a Saturday, after all.

"Whatever the lady wants," he said, running his knuckles along her cheek. She shivered, all too aware of the want that simple touch elicited in her. It was borderline ridiculous how she couldn't get enough of the man.

"The lady wants you," she said with a smile.

"You already have me."

"Then I want more," she said as she leaned in to kiss him.

"Greedy Baby Girl," he joked. "At least let me eat breakfast first. Pleasuring you is exhausting."

She laughed at him, slapping his shoulder. "Poor baby!"

They cooked breakfast in a companionable silence, and then sat at her little table to eat. "So how's our resident genius holding up?" She asked him. She felt guilty that she hadn't thought to ask about him sooner.

Morgan shrugged. "It's hard telling with the kid. He just doesn't talk about it. Not that I blame him. He's holding up a hell of a lot better than I would be." He looked down and toyed with his eggs.

She sighed. There it was again. The sad look was back in his eyes. "Tell me about the nightmares, D."

"It won't change anything," he said matter-of-factly.

"Maybe it will," she said.

"Or not." She might have snarled at him. He laughed at her again. She wadded up a napkin and chucked it at his head. Damn the man and his athletic prowess—he caught it. "Fine woman," he laughed. "I worry you may pelt me with things in my sleep."

"A worth-while concern, my prince. Now spill."

"Can I at least eat my damn eggs first?" he asked.

"I suppose. But you aren't evading me again, Morgan." He smirked at her use of his last name. They finished their breakfast in silence.

"You up for a walk?" He asked. She raised an eyebrow at him. It had to be 30 degrees outside. But she thought about the Replicator. If he was watching them, she liked the idea of him freezing his butt off too. Plus she thought it would say that they wouldn't stop living just because he was watching them.

She nodded. "Just let me go get my parka." She was ready for spring-it couldn't get here soon enough.

"All this time in D.C. and my baby is still a Cali girl," he chuckled. She slapped him again on the way to the closet.

Within twenty minutes, they were strolling along the river. Garcia linked her arm through Morgan's. She would have held his hand, but they were all too aware of the agent trailing behind them. Anyone who knew them at all would not think twice about her holding on to his arm as they walked. They had been touching each other for years. It was a beautifully clear day, despite the cold. She reveled in feeling of the sun on her face—with all that had happened, she hadn't been outside for more than a handful of minutes all week.

"I keep having the same nightmares," he said suddenly a short while later. They had been walking in a companionable silence. She knew he would talk when he was ready. Or rather, she hoped he would. Trying to drag things out of the man was downright exhausting. "But sometimes they morph into new ones. Sometimes this faceless person comes out of nowhere. And then you are _gone_, Baby Girl. Not dead gone, but gone gone." He looked forlorn as he looked toward the river. "In another version, I come home from a case and you aren't there anymore. We try to find you, but we can't. It's basically variations on those themes every single night."

"You've got to stop worrying," she said, even though she knew that would never happen.

"I can't," he said immediately.

She sighed. "I suppose I know that. It's who you are. You always have to worry about everyone. But for goodness sake, D, you are going to run yourself ragged if you don't figure out a way to manage it. You are going to be so tired, you won't be able to think straight on a case, and then the thought of what could happen is enough to give ME nightmares."

"Manage it?" He asked, looking at her. Apparently that idea had never occurred to him.

"Yes, manage it, handsome," she said, a bit exasperated with him. "I suppose this is why I help out with a support group and you catch unsubs. You are being such a man again. Manage it . . . as in, acknowledge it, process it, move on and get some sleep."

"I sleep fine as long as you are in my arms," he said, squeezing her arm tighter in his. She looked up at him and saw heat in his eyes again. She secretly cursed the FBI agent tailing behind them. It would have been nice to wrap her arms around him and kiss him.

"Yes, well that's all fine and dandy while you are in town. But you guys are going to get sent away on a case sooner or later. And you have to sleep while you are gone Derek. You have to be on your A-game. I don't want you worrying about me and getting yourself hurt." She chewed on her lip at the thought of it.

He brought his hand up from his pocket and gently skimmed her lower lip. "Mmm, so it really does go both ways, doesn't it?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Of course it does, you idiot. Are you just figuring that out? You aren't the only one who worries."

"But I carry a gun."

Oh great, she thought. That again. "You don't say? I had no idea." He laughed, and they let the subject go. They walked for another twenty minutes, talking about the inconsequential, before deciding lunch was in order. She pretended not to notice that every time Morgan stopped, he would survey the area for potential threats. She pretended not to notice the agent tailing them. She was happy enough to have an almost-normal afternoon with him. She would take what she could get.


End file.
